


Dancing in Stardust

by goingtothetardis



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: A look at the connection between the TARDIS and Rose, Bad Wolf, Bonding, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Interfering TARDIS, Romance, Rose tells the Doctor about her bond, Short lived angst, Smug TARDIS, Telepathy, Ten/Rose is implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-09-25 15:08:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9825875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goingtothetardis/pseuds/goingtothetardis
Summary: Rose spends some time alone in the console room and unexpectedly discovers a connection with the TARDIS.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a thing that's been running around in my mind for a while, and I saw some tags on a post recently talking about how they really want to see more exploration of the relationship between the TARDIS and Rose. Originally this story was just going to be this silly little thing where Rose asks for the sofa in the console room, but once I started writing it, it became much more than that. 
> 
> I've been sick the last two weeks, and ugh, my brain has been filled with fog and no words. Finally, I started working through it, and this is what transpired. The Doctor is not in this part of the story, but I'm seriously considering a continuation with a second chapter. These revelations won't be easy for the Doctor to accept, of course, so I need to figure out how I want to approach it. 
> 
> I really hope you guys like this. I adore the TARDIS and think there's so much potential for exploring what happened when Rose looked into her heart. This is my take on that moment. Hopefully I did it some justice. 
> 
> Thanks to Chiaroscuroverse for the input and beta.

Rose wanders into the console room and looks around for the Doctor. The usual telltale signs of his presence are missing: the soothing buzz of the sonic, the stream of words from his never ending gob, his frenetic dances around the console, or the blast of rock music he likes to work to. 

It’s oddly still, save for the slow and steady pulse of the rotor. The room is cast in a greenish glow, and for a moment Rose stands still, slightly disconcerted. It’s a rare occasion for her to be alone in the console room. She’s been alone loads of times elsewhere on the TARDIS, of course, like her room, the kitchen, or the media room. Preferring the Doctor’s company while in the console room, however, she’s always made a point to avoid it on her own. 

It’s _alien_ in ways the rest of the TARDIS isn’t. Well, from what she’s seen of the ship thus far, that is, which is quite a lot, but not close to everything for a supposedly infinite ship. There’s a presence in the room she doesn’t feel anywhere else on the ship, something both hauntingly familiar, singing softly from the furthest reaches of her mind, and completely foreign. The sensation has disoriented her on those few occasions when she’s found herself alone in the room, especially since the Doctor’s regeneration. It’s not _bad_ , necessarily, but she prefers the Doctor’s kinetic personality to distract her.

Instead of leaving, however, Rose is compelled to linger in the room. Before settling on the jumpseat to wait for the Doctor to reappear, she pulls her favorite trashy rag from Luta Prime from the little box of books and magazines she keeps under the jumpseat. His absence is curious, but what he gets up to in his ship is beyond her realm of understanding. She’s not bothered by it, instead choosing to appreciate these few moments of alone-time. Perhaps she can use this time to bond with the TARDIS.

Rose wiggles around on the jumpseat, trying to find a comfortable position. On her own, it’s really… not… comfortable. She huffs and tries to lay down on her side, but the seat is uneven and lumpy, the middle seat forming a hole that her hips want to fall into. Her feet hang off the end, and with a sigh of exasperation, she sits up again and settles into the middle seat, letting her feet dangle toward the floor. How has she endured so much time on the jumpseat without complaint before? With a smirk, Rose realizes she’s probably been distracted by the Doctor’s bum, in both jeans and pinstriped trousers, as he works on his precious ship. Or by his presence beside her as they talk about anything and everything. 

“What’s the chance of getting something a little more comfortable in here?” Rose asks, glancing at the console rotor while thinking at the TARDIS. “No offence, but this seat isn’t built for these hips.” She wiggles on the seat. 

The rotor pulses a few times, and much to her surprise, Rose feels an amused sort of affection blossom in her mind. 

_Is that the… TARDIS?_

There’s little time to mull that thought over when a movement on the opposite side of the console pulls her from her thoughts. Rose hops off the jumpseat, walks around the console, and is delighted to find a cushy two-person sofa perched on the grating. Rose lets out a squeal of delight and throws herself onto the sofa. Oh, it’s _fantastic_. The material is sturdy but soft – so soft – and the cushions contour to her body as if it was made specifically for her. It’s a _much_ needed addition to the console room.

“Oh, you’re brilliant, you are,” Rose says to the TARDIS, in a manner reminiscent of the Doctor, and once again there’s an answering nudge of affection in her mind.

This time, it’s enough to hold her attention, and Rose jumps up and places her hand against the edge of the console. Letting her eyes close, she focuses her mind on that vaguely familiar presence in the room. It’s the TARDIS, she thinks, but while Rose knows the TARDIS is an organic, sentient being, the presence in her mind is not one she can easily define. It’s feminine, yes, but distinctly not human. 

The TARDIS hums gently, the soft warmth of an eerily familiar melody pricking her mind in a way she’s never experienced before, and Rose is infused with welcoming, a sense of belonging and possession. As if she belongs to the TARDIS and the TARDIS to her. 

Wait. _What?_

She steps back from the console with a gasp and stares at the rotor. Where had that come from? That sense of possession and belonging. Rose chews on her lip for a moment, considering. Never before has she felt the ship so… intimately. Not in the way of a lover, of course, but as something that is a _part_ of her, something that is necessary to her being. And something, she realizes, she reciprocates in equal regard. 

There’s a gentle prod against the edge of her mind, and with a deep breath, she steps forward once again to the console. Clearly, it’s not necessary for her to touch the console, but Rose likes the idea of something tangible to link her to the ship. She closes her eyes, crinkles her forehead in concentration, and focuses on the TARDIS. 

This time, it’s an instant connection, and Rose readily welcomes the TARDIS’s presence in her mind, wondering why she’d ever felt uneasy about it. Rose can’t quite define her new connection with the TARDIS… it’s beyond her realm of understanding. The TARDIS is a sentient species connected to Time and the Vortex, and as a human, Rose knows she simply doesn’t have the capacity to _know_ the ship in the same way as the Doctor, or to communicate with her in the same way.

Yet there’s a deep conviction that it _is_ the TARDIS she communes with, and after several moments, Rose senses a shift in the TARDIS’s intent. The melody in her mind changes to one she instantly remembers from the moment she saw the heart of the TARDIS, and Rose’s mind is instantly flooded with a barrage of memories from that fateful day. 

With a loud gasp, Rose jumps back from the console and stares at the rotor with a wide, horrified gaze. _Bad Wolf._

_She was the Bad Wolf._

Was. _Is._ Always will be. 

She remembers everything. Wrenching the TARDIS open with help from her Mum and Mickey, bonding with the ship over a common goal to save the Doctor, destroying the Daleks, saving the Doctor, bringing life. 

_Bringing life._

Jack. 

“Oh God, what did I do?” Rose brings a hand to her mouth and struggles to hold back a wave of tears. She backs up from the console and plops down on the new sofa. 

The TARDIS is in her mind, a soothing song that helps to assuage the fears accompanying the newfound knowledge of these revealed memories. She helps Rose move past the horrifying awareness of what she’d done to Jack, and intently encourages Rose to acknowledge the remaining memories. 

Rose slouches back into the sofa with shock when she recalls the Doctor’s life saving _kiss_ as well as the way he’d given his life in place of hers. A fresh wave of crushing grief temporarily incapacitates Rose. She heaves her body forward, resting her elbows on her knees, and breathes erratically for several minutes. 

And then, because apparently the TARDIS needs her to know _everything_ from her time as Bad Wolf, the TARDIS leads Rose to a place in her mind that glows with a golden remnant of the heart of the TARDIS. 

_It’s still there._

The heart is still a part of her, and the TARDIS sings to Rose. Through her song, Rose once again feels that unearthly sense of belonging and possession; there’s also a deep love and affection, the desire to protect and cherish. These… emotions… are difficult to define, but Rose is nevertheless filled with an inexplicable understanding of this newly revealed connection she shares with the TARDIS. It’s similar to the bond the Doctor has with his ship but is in some ways more organic, because she’s connected to the TARDIS at the core of her heart. The Doctor has the biological capacity in his DNA to create a bond with his ship, but in order for for Rose to form a similar bond, her own DNA had to undergo extensive changes at a fundamental level. 

Despite the shock from yet another round of overwhelming revelations, Rose contents herself with the knowledge that such changes were made with full consent, by both herself and the TARDIS. The TARDIS shares with her the history of her own first moment with the Doctor, how he stole her and she, in turn, stole him, and Rose realizes in doing what she did with a sheer force of will to send herself and the TARDIS back to save the Doctor on the Game Station, her own relationship with the ship is somewhat mirrored.

With an affectionate melody of possession, Rose understands the TARDIS has no intention of ever letting her go. It’s an intoxicating awareness, but one she shares with equal fervor. She’s promised the Doctor her forever in more ways than one, and in many ways this promise has always extended to the ship. The TARDIS is her home, now, the one place in the universe she finally belongs. Sure, she loves the adventures and the running, but as long as the Doctor’s hand is in hers and she feels the warmth of the TARDIS in her mind, Rose doesn’t care where she is. 

Rose stands up and walks slow circles around the console, considering everything she’s learned. For several moments, she experiences a deep anger toward the Doctor, for neglecting to tell her the truth about what _really_ happened on the Game Station. But at a soothing whisper from the TARDIS, Rose realizes she needed to find out what happened in this way, through the TARDIS setting those memories free from where the Doctor had safely hidden them from her awareness. As much as she loves and trusts the Doctor, at the end of the day, her own mind and memories contribute to her reliable instincts and behaviors. And the Doctor has been known, in an effort to protect her from the dark forces of the universe, to shield her from the full truth. 

And these truths, well– they’re deep and life changing. But they are _hers_.

As she ambles around the console, Rose thinks about that last thought– _life changing_. She’s different now, she knows. There’s an awareness that simmers underneath her skin, even if she can’t explain how or why. Oh, she’s still _Rose_ in all the important ways, but she can now truly offer an actual forever to the Doctor. 

A instantaneous jolt of anxiety runs through her veins at these thoughts, and she chews restlessly on her thumb nail. What if the Doctor doesn’t want to spend his forever with her? What if she’s just hoping on superficial dreams?

No. She refuses to believe that, and that belief is infused with support from the TARDIS. None of this would have happened if the TARDIS thought the Doctor didn’t also want it, right? He might need a bit of gentle encouragement in the face of his lack of belief in the impossible, but Rose is confident she and the TARDIS will help him understand and accept the things that have happened. 

She needs to know how he feels, needs to tell the Doctor about what has happened since she’s last seen him, and Rose asks the TARDIS to send him back to the console room. Despite her anxiety, Rose realizes with a smirk that the TARDIS has kept the Doctor from the room in order to complete the bond between them, and she prepares herself for a round of disgruntled grousing upon his arrival. 

Until then, however, Rose fetches the magazine she’d picked up earlier and settles in on her new sofa to await the Doctor.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor discovers more than just a new piece of furniture in the console room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeeeey, so clearly my writing hiatus is going well. Haha!! I actually wrote most of this right after publishing the first chapter, but then the muse stopped working, and I just left it. Thanks to the brilliant help of SelenaTerna, I was able to revitalize this chapter and finally publish it!
> 
> As of now, there are no plans to continue. I know I mentioned Jack a few times and such, but it was never really my intention to resolve _everything_. So I hope you like this!! 
> 
> Thanks to SelenaTerna for the beta!

“Rose! There you are, I’ve been looking all over for you…” The Doctor trails off when he finds Rose sound asleep on a sofa in the console room. A sofa he _definitely_ knows wasn’t there the last time he was there. 

And why is there a sofa? The jumpseat is perfectly comfortable, in his opinion. 

The TARDIS hums a greeting at him, irritatingly smug about something in her layers of communication, and it dawns on him that there may be a reason he hasn’t been able to find Rose. 

“Did you hide her from me?” he asks indignantly. 

The TARDIS’s answer is vague, which in his experience, is usually an indication of a guilty conscience. The rotor pulses rather abruptly a few times, and there’s an irritated prickle in his mind. Fine, not _guilty_ , exactly. But definitely hiding something. 

There’s no answer from his ship. 

The Doctor shrugs and walks over to the new sofa. Rose is curled on her side, head resting on the armrest, and one of her magazines lays in a heap on the floor. Leaning against the console, he watches her sleep for a few minutes, his lips quirking up at the sight. She’s snoring gently, and her mouth hangs open, allowing a tiny trickle of drool to fall down the arm of the sofa. Her hair scrunches against the armrest in a haphazard disarray, but he finds he’s rather charmed by the look. 

Eventually, however, his curiosity gets the better of him. “Rose,” he whispers. She doesn’t stir. “Rose!” He says a little louder. 

“Hmm, wha’?” Rose pushes herself up with one arm in an abrupt movement, and blinks at the Doctor. “Oh. Was I sleepin’?” She looks around, confused for a moment, and blushes when she spots the puddle of drool on the sofa. With her hoodie covered arm, she wipes off the mess. 

“So,” he begins, “you redecorated.”

With a sheepish expression Rose looks from him to the jumpseat and back to the sofa. “Yeah, well, was lookin’ for you, an’ even though you weren’t here, I decided to stay. Never noticed how bloody uncomfortable that seat is before!”

“Oi! That’s my ship you’re talking about,” he protests.

“Yeah, well, she agreed and gave me my sofa.” Rose smiles at the console. “‘Cos she’s brilliant.”

The TARDIS preens in his mind, bright and pleased with herself. He sniffs. “Yes, well. Of course she is. Best ship in the universe, my TARDIS. More than just a ship, really.”

“Yeah, she is.” Rose stands up and joins him at the console, running her fingers along the edge, just like he does. She stands beside him, a pensive look on her face, and chews her lower lip the way she does when there’s something on her mind.

“Something wrong, Rose?”

Rose turns to him and studies his face for a few seconds. “Not _wrong_ , no. It’s what’s right, actually. I have something to tell you, but maybe you should sit, yeah?” She nods to the sofa, and he follows her cue and sits with his legs splayed out in front of him with one arm resting along the back of the chair. 

He’s intensely curious, of course, but a warning prod from the TARDIS makes him bite his tongue and wait for Rose to start when she’s ready. 

“I came to the console room earlier, looking for you. You weren’t here.”

“No, I was–” He stops when she holds up a hand. 

“Sorry. Can I just get you to promise one thing?” she asks. 

He nods. 

“Something happened, and I need to tell you about it, but it’ll be really hard if you interrupt me. Please, Doctor. I promise you can talk at the end, yeah?” She fiddles with her hair, twirling a piece of it around her fingers, clearly nervous about something. 

A flash of worry seizes the Doctor’s hearts, but the TARDIS immediately tries to assuage his fears, tries to convince him, in her own way, that whatever Rose has to tell him isn’t bad. “Of course, Rose, but what’s going on?”

Rose sighs in relief and takes a deep breath to continue. “Have you ever noticed that I don’t spend time in here on my own? Well, before today?” 

The Doctor stares at Rose, perplexed, but he shakes his head. 

“I never did, cos it felt… too alien, I guess. Especially after you regenerated. ‘S like…” She trails off and scrunches her forehead as she tries to think of the right word. “‘S like there was something else here, and I dunno, it creeped me out. Always liked it better when you were in here with me.”

Nodding, the Doctor remains silent, trying to figure out where she’s going with this. 

“Today I came here, looking for you, an’ I decided to stay. The jumpseat was really uncomfortable, so I asked the TARDIS if she could give me something different. An’ she did.” Rose nods to the sofa. “‘Cept this time I _felt_ her in my mind. Properly felt her, the TARDIS. I’ve never felt her like that before. Was more than just translating words.”

Rose drifts off in thought, and the Doctor shifts impatiently, forcing himself to respect Rose’s request for silence. He’s a bit unnerved by Rose’s story this far, and it’s an effort to not ask questions. If he’s honest with himself, it’s his own ship’s request for him to be patient, her insistence that nothing is wrong, that puts him more on edge. He squirms in his seat and taps his fingers restlessly on his legs. 

Rose’s eyes drift to his fidgeting fingers before they focus on something over his shoulder. “It’s like I could feel how I belonged to her, kinda like she was possessive of me. But the thing is, I felt the same thing back. And it felt normal, like I was always supposed to feel like this.” 

The Doctor gapes in shock at Rose as she closes her eyes and focuses on something he doesn’t dare to think. Concerned, the Doctor easily seeks out his own connection with the TARDIS and is surprised to find her communing with Rose. _With Rose!_ She sings a song so heartbreakingly familiar – allows him to sense their connection – and he can’t keep from breaking his promise. 

“Rose!” The Doctor jumps up and grasps Rose by each arm, flinching as the TARDIS prods their own connection, making her annoyance known.

Rose opens her eyes, jumping at his touch and close proximity. “Doctor, I told you, I’m _fine_. Please, sit down.”

“No, Rose, you’re not fine. You’re somehow connected to the TARDIS, and I thought I–” He breaks off when a wave of chastisement sends him staggering back from Rose. Clapping his mouth shut, he glares at the ceiling and huffs when the TARDIS fills his mind with mauve, shouting at him in her own way. 

Rose sighs in exasperation. “This is why I told you not to say anything until I was done talking.”

The Doctor’s jaw tightens, but he simply runs his fingers through his hair, yanking on it in agitation, and sits back down on the sofa, _clearly_ outnumbered. 

“Thank you. An’ Doctor, I really need you to promise not to say anything with what I have to say next. Please promise,” she says.

With a sigh, he meets her gaze. “I promise, Rose. Not a word.”

Rose smiles faintly before continuing. “Okay, um. Once I figured out it was the TARDIS an’ that everything was okay, she somehow unlocked some memories in my mind. Memories from the Game Station.” Rose stares at the Doctor with an accusing glare, and biting his tongue, he meets her gaze with some defiance. “Doctor, you had no right to hide those memories from me. I was the Bad Wolf…” She pauses and eyes him steadily. “I _am_ the Bad Wolf. She’s still a part of me, Doctor.”

The Doctor clenches his trousers in his fists as Rose tells her story. He thought he’d hidden those memories out of fear of what might happen if he didn’t. But of course, his TARDIS unlocked them for her, knowing she wouldn’t burn, knowing they were her memories to discover– That they belonged to Rose, not him. He tries to tell himself that his ship would never let any harm befall Rose, but then again, she did allow Rose to look into her heart, which almost killed her. The TARDIS mentally pokes him in irritation, critical of his disbelief in her to protect Rose.

“I remember everything, Doctor. Everything. Bringing Jack back to life. _God_ , how could you just _leave_ him there? Don’t even think for a second that we’re not talking about this more later. And then… then you _kissed_ me!” She pushes off the console and leans down in front of him, peering into his eyes. “ _You. Kissed. Me._ It was everything I wanted, and I didn’t even remember it.”

He says nothing.

Rose spins around until she’s once again leaning against the console. It’s as if the touch of the TARDIS soothes her nerves. 

“I’m bonded with the TARDIS, now. Did you know that? She showed me. We did it together as Bad Wolf, and she showed me that golden bit of her heart still in my mind.”

At this, the Doctor can’t sit still anymore and jumps up to meet Rose. He hovers in front of her, tension radiating off his body, and Rose leans away from him in apprehension. Still, he holds himself back and uses every bit of his willpower to stay silent, the TARDIS’s soothing presence unable to tame the brewing storm. 

“And you know what that means, don’t you, Doctor?” She stares at him in defiance, almost daring him to contradict her. “In order for me to bond with the TARDIS, I had to change. An’ I did change. Not really sure how. Was hoping you could help me figure that out, actually.” She laughs a bit before returning her gaze back to his. Her eyes glint with golden fire, filled with determination and stubbornness. “But Doctor? It was _my_ decision. Well, mine and the TARDIS’s. Everything you hid from me– I had every right to know. At first I was so angry at you, but the TARDIS helped me realize it wasn’t your story to tell. I had to find out the way I did, an’ it’s okay. I’m not mad anymore. Except for what you did to Jack. And what I did,” she adds quietly, before pausing to gather her thoughts. “Look, I know you have a hard time believing in impossible things, but Doctor– Now I can really give you the forever I’ve promised you all along. Better with two, remember?”

Unable to help himself, the Doctor stares into her eyes, completely mesmerized by what he finds there. His mind buzzes with Rose’s words, automatically attempting to reject the truth of them, as he’s so used to forcefully denying anything his brilliant omniscience declares impossible. The TARDIS presses herself into his mind and forces him to see the truth by showing him her bond with Rose. 

It’s only an echo of their connection, since he communicates with his ship and is bonded to her in a very different way, but it’s enough for him to sense the powerful bond between Rose and the TARDIS. The TARDIS shows him vague memories from her earlier encounter with Rose, gasping when she suggests this might even allow him to one day bond with Rose in the way of his people. Shaking those thoughts aside for now, he inspects the connection closely until… _there_ – It’s the remnant of her heart, deeply imbedded in Rose’s mind.

Rose’s voice finally pulls him from his thoughts. “Doctor… You can talk now.” Her voice is small and unsure, as if she’s terrified of his reaction. 

He sighs loudly, his shoulders hunching forward as the tension leaves his body. He’s left with an an uncomfortable tingle of hope and excitement, and he desperately tries to snuff it out as he nervously contemplates the ramifications of what embracing the unknown mystery in front of him might mean. The universe has never granted him any favors, and it’ll do him no good at all to tempt himself with a hypothetical forever with Rose.

“Rose, I–” He stops suddenly, grabs Rose’s hand, and pulls her with him to the sofa. They sit in silence for several moments while he collects his thoughts. “It’s impossible.”

Rose sighs and rolls her eyes. He feels a similar response of pure exasperation from the TARDIS. “I knew you’d say that.”

“But…” He lets the word hang in the air, and Rose looks at him expectantly. “The TARDIS keeps trying to tell me it’s not as impossible as I think it is.”

“Doctor, I don’t really know how to explain it, this connection between her and me. I’m just… I am hers and she is mine, and it’s… Well, it’s like the TARDIS is trying to show me emotions, but they’re not like human emotions, yeah? But even though I don’t really understand, it still makes sense. I _do_ understand. But I don’t. Argh!” She ruffles her hair in frustration and slumps back into the sofa. 

“The TARDIS is a sentient being, capable of free will and thought and expression, but not in a way humans are designed to understand. That goes for most other sentient beings in the universe, actually. Time Lords – Gallifreyans, even – we’re biologically compatible to bond telepathically with a TARDIS. But for a TARDIS to do so with a human? It’s unheard of. Impossible. And yet, my TARDIS has never been one to conform to societal norms.” He smirks, enjoying the TARDIS’s equal amusement. “A bit like me.”

“And you’re right.” His voice takes on a steely edge. “Without changing the foundation of your genetic makeup, it’s impossible for you to bond with my ship. And according to you and the TARDIS, you did just that. Why, Rose? _Why would you do such a thing?_ Do you have any idea what this means?” It’s pure instinct to fight off anything that has the potential to destroy his hearts, to push away the hope for more like he’d done some time ago outside the chip shop in the shadow of the Krillitane. It’s not something he’s terribly proud of, this protective mechanism that throws him headfirst into the waters of self-hate, but it’s helped him survive all these long years. And for the last of the Time Lords, survival is a prevailing instinct. 

To his consternation, Rose simply sighs, like she expected his answer. Like she expected him to push away and turn his doubt-filled anxiety on her. 

“Of course I know what this means,” Rose says, irritation evident in her voice. “Now, I do, of course. I also told you it was _my_ decision– Mine and the TARDIS’s. Doctor, more than anything else, I need you to to trust in us. I know it’s hard, but I need you to to believe and trust in the decisions I make, especially this one. Trust that I’m able to make a life changing decision without doubt, and that _maybe_ I’m making the right decision. Trust that it’s _my_ body, and I’m capable of deciding what’s best for _me_.” She stops for a moment, breathing heavily, and gives him a steely glare.

The Doctor flinches, sensing it’s best to keep his mouth shut as he waits for Rose to continue.

“I promised you forever, Doctor, and now I can make good on that promise. I’m sure you never believed me before when I said it, _really_ believed me, I mean. Now you don’t have to be alone anymore, an’ you’ll always have my hand to hold. Unless,” she begins, her face closing off as she considers her words, “you don’t want me. If that’s the case, it’s fine. I’ll be alright. I’ll…”

“No! That is, _yes_! I want you here. With me. I–” he pauses, carefully thinking about what to say before blundering on. “I want you, Rose Tyler. Human or not, I want you.” And _oh_ does he want Rose, the woman who’d stolen his hearts irrevocably before he’d even known she’d done so. But his yearning, the depths of his desires for Rose had been hidden deep, forced (albeit very unwilling) into the dark corners of his mind he refused to acknowledge, because the fear of what the universe could _take_ from him was always stronger than the hope of what it could _give_ him. Now, however, those feelings spill out unchecked with Rose’s words and promises, into the open where he’s tempted, _oh so tempted._

Relief floods her features, and she bites her lower lip, unable to keep a tear from trailing down her cheek. He takes her hand and squeezes it.

He continues. “I’m not saying it’s easy for me to accept what you’ve done.” There’s more he wants to say, but at a warning hum from the TARDIS, he decides to leave those words for later, after he’s shown his trust in her. “I trust you, Rose,” he says, finally, earnest and genuine, as he stares into Rose’s eyes. “But I’ve been on my own for so long, it’s hard to believe anyone would do this for me. It’s… difficult… to simply accept what you’ve told me without challenging it.” Pausing, he let’s his gaze drift from Rose’s. “It’s dangerous to hope,” he adds almost desperately. 

Rose rolls her eyes, and he feels a similar sentiment from the TARDIS. “So _simplify_ it.” She pokes him in the chest and sits back in contemplation. Finally, she continues. “Look, I know you feel like it’s your responsibility to protect everyone in the universe, but I can look out for myself, yeah? We’re a _team_ , Doctor, an’ we work together using our own strengths to do what we do. I can look after myself. You’ve never treated me like I’m less than I am, and that’s one of the things I love about you. Don’t… don’t start now.”

Her words hang in the air between them, the passion behind her words warms the Doctor’s hearts. 

It takes a moment for Rose to realize what she’s said, and when she does, her cheeks flush a lovely shade of pink. “I mean it, you know,” she says, undeterred.

He’s certain she hadn’t meant to say the words, one in particular, so he decides to pretend he doesn’t know what she’s talking about. The TARDIS, privy to his every thought when his barriers are down, sighs. “What do you mean?”

She looks up at him again and smiles. It’s filled with simple joy and so much genuine affection it makes his hearts ache. “I love you, you daft alien.”

And there it is, those three words finally out in the open. Of course he’d wondered, taunted by her promises of forever, but stubbornly refused to believe such a sentiment possible toward him. Because how could anyone love _him_? The Destroyer of Worlds, the Oncoming Storm, the Killer of His Own Kind. He doesn’t deserve any kind of love. 

“I’m not… I’m not what you think Rose. How can you possibly love someone like me?” he asks, inwardly cringing at the callousness of his question. 

The smile instantly disappears from Rose’s face, and she frowns, the sweet moment broken by his insensitivity. “You don’t get to tell me who I can and can’t love, Doctor. That choice is mine. And I’ve chosen you. You and the TARDIS and this life we live. I love you. I love all of it.” 

He stares into her eyes, marveling at the fierce, _visible_ love and devotion he finds there, and with encouragement and a similar (but definitely _not_ the same) sense of affection and devotion from the TARDIS, allows himself to trust them both. In many ways, especially with someone not the TARDIS, it’s a foreign and bewildering sensation, but this is _Rose_ , and his hearts tell him to take this step forward, even if it’s a leap of faith.

But then again, he’s already taken a leap of faith, hasn’t he? And it was his belief in Rose that pushed him forward the last time. 

In response, the Doctor pulls Rose close and captures her lips with his, kissing her deeply and with reckless abandon. He’s kissed her before, yes, but the first time had been to save her life, the second hadn’t really been Rose at all, and the third, well– Compared to this, the third was just a peck on the lips, a brief moment of joy in ancient Rome. 

Due to their awkward position on the sofa, which, he hates to admit, _is_ quite comfortable, Rose falls into him and places her hands over his hearts to brace herself. They thrum with adrenaline beneath her fingers, and he hopes Rose knows both of them belong to her. He may not be ready to share the same words with Rose, yet, but, oh… 

_She knows…_

He knows she does.

* * *

The TARDIS hums with pleasure, elated that they have finally arrived _here_. She knows that the Doctor and Rose still have much to talk about, still so much to say and understand, but for now, they are finally as one, together as they should be, and it is enough. 

And so, the TARDIS sings a new song, one born of the blended harmonies of her Wolf and her Time Lord, and she guides them both through everything the universe throws at them, which is rather a lot. But the TARDIS knew what she was doing all those years ago when she stole the Doctor and flew away, knew that one day her Time Lord would find his other half, the human who would calm the storm inside his hearts and give him what he needed most.

Hope and love.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr at goingtothetardis.tumblr.com.


End file.
